‘Cross enough,’ he said drily. ‘Better not keep her waiting. I’ll find you some oil.’
As he left, I rose slowly to my feet. I trod on my belt buckle. ‘Fuck.’
Looking down, I saw a leather pouch on the floor. The purse Aristarchos had given me. Empty. Discarding the notion of bending over to reach for anything, I settled for kicking the purse out of sight, under the bed.
Outside, the sunshine was still painfully bright. I barely opened my eyes while I rubbed myself down with olive oil and scraped every last trace of grime and stink off my skin. After sluicing myself from head to toe with warm water, I took a long drink from the jug Kadous brought fresh from the fountain, and another one after that.
That felt better. I was still very far from recovered but I should at least be able to take Zosime to the theatre. If I did that, as well as remembering to ask Lysicrates about actors who were good at playing Ionians, the day wouldn’t be a total loss.
I was about to head back to our bedroom and find some clean clothes when Zosime surprised me, appearing from the not-yet dining room. She held out a papyrus sheet.
‘I’ve been thinking about the men Onesime saw painting that filth on our wall. Maybe you could find someone who saw Xandyberis with some strangers. If you knew where and when he met them, perhaps that would help you learn who they are. Maybe seeing this will jog a few memories.’ She handed me a portrait of the dead man. Her artistic skills brought him vividly back to life with deft strokes of a pen.
The ink was still glistening. I waved it in the hot sun to dry. ‘You’re a marvel. I don’t deserve you.’
‘Just as long as you remember that.’
Even though she smiled at me, I felt a chill in the warm sun.
Every coin has two sides. As no more than my lover and as a resident foreigner besides, Zosime has none of an Athenian citizen’s rights. That also means she has none of the ties that bind women like Melina to their hearths and homes: love for their children, and with Aphrodite’s blessing, for their husbands as well.
My mother, my sisters, my brother’s wife, they spend their whole lives within sight of the Acropolis, under watchful Athena’s grey gaze. They share every passing year’s joys and sorrows with family, friends and neighbours. Leaving their homes and friendships would be like cutting off a limb.
Menkaure and Zosime could take a ship from Piraeus tomorrow and not look back. They’d already lived for years in three different places. Another new start would hardly be a great challenge. With their skills as potter and painter, they could make a good living in any Hellenic city.
Zosime must have seen something in my face. ‘Stop moping,’ she chided. ‘You earned that headache.’
‘True enough.’ I hid my apprehensive thoughts with a repentant smile. ‘Give me a moment to get dressed and we’ll get to the theatre.’
I threw a silent prayer to Dionysos that we’d still be able to get decent seats.
‘We’ll see today’s plays then find somewhere to eat in the city,’ I suggested. ‘If we have an early night, we can be up and at the theatre tomorrow first thing.’
‘You said you’d see your mother today,’ Zosime reminded me.
‘Okay, but that’ll just be a quick detour.’ I scrubbed a hand through my wet curls to try and quell the thumping in my head. ‘Let me get dressed.’
I found a plain brown tunic in my clothes chest. That would do. I carefully rolled up the portrait Zosime had drawn and tucked it through my belt for safekeeping.
‘I should stay here today,’ Kadous said glumly as I went back into the courtyard. ‘Better not leave the house unguarded again.’ He managed a wry grin. ‘If I see anyone creeping up with a paint pot, I promise the fucker will end up drinking it.’
I considered that for a long moment, looking around our little house. I assessed what someone might find, breaking in here to smash and steal. The chickens. Zosime’s jewellery. My precious library of scrolls. Whatever treasures Kadous might have stowed under his bed.
All were things we’d grieve to lose. There was nothing that couldn’t be replaced though, given time, money and effort. Nothing was as valuable as Kadous’s life. The men who’d dumped Xandyberis’s body had already come back here to try and intimidate me a second time with their painted slanders. I wouldn’t bet against these bastards cutting my slave’s throat if they found him here alone, to make sure I got their message for the third time of telling. Whatever their message might be.
It was humiliating to admit I didn’t feel safe in my own city, in my own home. I didn’t like the idea of yielding to an enemy either, but I’d learned the difference between a rout and prudent retreat in Boeotia.
‘You’re not staying here on your own,’ I said firmly. ‘Until we know who our enemies are, we watch each other’s back.’
‘If you’re sure.’ Kadous didn’t protest too much. Either he’d thought this through like me, or he really wanted to see today’s tragedies.
Setting out, I wasn’t sure if the walk to the city would kill me or cure me. Thankfully a fresh breeze was blowing. By the time we were approaching the Itonian Gate, my headache had subsided and my stomach no longer felt as if I’d swallowed something dredged from the River Styx.
Just before we reached the gate I was surprised to see Mus striding down the road. He saw me and waved a broad hand, clearly relieved. ‘The master sent me to make sure that all was well with you.’
‘Is Aristarchos at the theatre?’
Mus nodded. ‘With the Pargasarenes.’
‘Let’s not keep them waiting,’ Zosime suggested.
‘Of course.’ Mus turned around and set a punishing pace back into the city. I was hard-pressed to keep up with him.
